Saving my brother
by citigirl13
Summary: A one-shot about Damon's feelings towards his brother


**I've been having a little trouble with my stories lately: sort of like writer's block, but more like thinking that my writing is crap. But I'm feeling some inspiration now, so hopefully this has done the trick. **

**Just a one-shot about Stefan and Damon. I love their relationship – don't get me wrong, I am a Delena fan ALL THE WAY! But I hope that, in the end, Stefan and Damon will become true brothers – think of Lucas and Nathan Scott in One Tree Hill at the end of series one. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this story. Not much happens in this, just what Damon is thinking. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries**

**XxX **

**Saving my brother**

Stefan thinks I hate him. In truth... Yeah, I guess I do hate him. But doesn't he understand that you can hate a person and love them at the same time?

I heard the shot from a mile away. By the time I arrived on the scene, that reporter was about to stab my brother with a stake. I pounced on him before he knew what was going on. Didn't anyone ever tell him that you should always be aware of everything?

I tossed him aside like a rag doll, bending over Stefan. He was panting, blood coming out of the hole in his chest. Faster than lightning – as fast as vampire – I pulled the bullet out. "Wooden," I ground out. "They know."

Seeing the confusion in his green eyes, I quickly informed him that if anyone was going to kill him, it would be me. But I lied. I think Stefan knew that. Anyone could figure that out; after all, how many chances had I had to kill him? How many times could I have attacked him, with my superior strength? How long would it have taken me to destroy him?

And then there was that whole kidnapping incident. I remember, before I realised, I got a panicky feeling in the pit of my stomach when Stefan didn't return. I called Elena, but that beautiful bitch wouldn't pick up her phone. By the time I came over, deep down I already knew what had happened.

I fully expected Pearl to have taken Stefan; I hadn't even thought of Fredric. True, he was angry at us, but he was under the command of Pearl, who had a good two hundred years on him. Obviously she wasn't good at managing her staff.

It only hit home when he brought Stefan out. When he lifted his head, I saw the pain and fear in his eyes; the desperate _need_ for help. I felt a deep aching pain in my chest, and I mean deep: that pain and fear that you have when you _know _something terrible is going to happen, something that is going to cause suffering; something that you worry you can't stop no matter how hard you try. And then of course there was that unmistakable urge to _kill_. I forgot about Elena waiting in the car; I forgot that I was outnumbered; I even forgot about the stupid rule to "invite vampires in"; all I thought about was Stefan's pain and how I, as the big brother, had to rescue him.

But of course I couldn't enter the house. Smirking, Fredric informed me that my brother was going to feel the full pain of what happens when you don't eat. Then – after commanding the compelled owner of the house not to let me in – he slammed the door in my face.

I had to take a minute to calm myself; if I hadn't, then I was sure I would torture the first person I found. I can't even say for certain that Elena would be safe.

In order to get Stefan back, we went on a mission to find our own vampire slayer – no, not Buffy – Alaric Saltzman. I would never admit it, but I _needed _him. He was the only one who could help me while not risking himself – not that I particularly cared. But he couldn't die, so it wasn't like I was dragging him to his death. Plus, he knew exactly how to kill a vampire and came prepared with weapons.

Of course I had to convince Elena not to kill herself aka coming in with me. But naturally, she didn't listen to me. I had to kill one of those vampire jackasses before he made Elena his naughty little snack before dinner. I asked her if she was insane – as if I really had to; she's dating a vampire – she said, "Give me a hard time later. Let's just get Stefan out of here."

I was ticked off, but I had to focus on the matter at hand – Stefan. When I entered the room, seeing him all pale and injured, his voice weak, my breath halted in my body. And I when I caught it again, I was ready to kill; to torture; to massacre everyone in the state. I settled for the vampires in the house.

That day held a lot of momentous occasions: Alaric saving my ass and punching me in the face in less than twenty four hours; Stefan getting his first taste of human blood in nearly 150 years; Pearl eating her own words. But the thing that stood out the most was my own realisation; my own epiphany:

No matter how much I hated Stefan, I still loved him. I was still his big brother. Like it or not, it was my job to save him.

And I would. Every time.


End file.
